


Soundless Voice

by AngieMalon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieMalon/pseuds/AngieMalon
Summary: Haytham Kenway is dying from an illness, and Connor decides to stay with his father until the very end.
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

London, December 6th, 1783 

Haytham Kenway is dying, from tuberculosis. He has since resigned from Templar's duties and returned home to London. Connor accompanied him, wants to spend more time with his father in his final days. It is his first time visiting his father’s hometown, the River Thymes, the Buckingham Palace, the London accent are all new to him. ” Wish I could show you around the city, as father and son, ” Haytham said lightly, sadness and regret clear in his voice, he leaned against his son’s shoulder, exhaling. Connor switched his gaze away from the carriage window and onto his father, he looked ghastly pale, his handkerchief was stained red with blood. He buried his face into the fabric of his son’s clothing,” I am tired, in every possible way.” Connor gently patted his father’s shoulder, brushing away the beads of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. 

Outside, the pedestrians are carrying out their daily routines, laughter from children and adults alike filled the streets, Connor envied them, not bothered by the centuries-old conflict between the Assassins and the Templars, able to live their lives like normal. Sighing, Connor began to sing a song which his mother always sings to him whenever he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep, hoping that it will at least soothing his father a bit. 

Their carriage arrived at the Kenway mansion at Queen Anne’s Square, Connor jumped off and helped Haytham getting down the stairs, ” I remembered doing this to Jenny when I was young, ” Haytham chuckled a bit at that memory, turned to Connor and said, ” you will meet her soon, ” they walked toward the manor. Haytham knocked on the faded, beautifully decorated wood door twice, and they heard footsteps coming towards the doorway, and when the door was opened, an old lady greeted them with a surprised expression on her face. ” Hi, Jenny, I am back, ” Haytham smiled weakly at his older half-sister, Jenny wordlessly let them inside. 

The design of the manor was largely unchanged, although it did go through a period of rebuilding after that fateful fire. A wide staircase leading towards the second floor, with wooden handles on each side. The main hall is where they are staying, the sofas are of light blue colour and very comfortable; in front of them is a square coffee table, with a few books and a flower vase on it. A fireplace stands behind the coffee table, its flames provide warmth. Connor looks up from the fireplace and sees the portrait painting of the Kenway family, ” they are...?” Connor turns to Jennifer and asked, pointing to the painting, ” they will be father, your grandfather in this case, Edward, my second mother, Tessa, Haytham, around 7 or 8 years old, and me.” Jennifer gazed at the painting, reminiscing the days before the tragedy, simpler times. 

Haytham looks up as well, smiling sadly at the painting, ” father...” his voice is at the brink of crying, he extends a boney and wrinkled hand as if to touch him again, but a sudden coughing feat interrupts him and his whole body shakes violently, blood spilling onto his palm, Connor instinctively reaches out and start stroking his back soothingly, ” father, breath...” he whispered. Jennifer looks at Connor, and said, ” it seems like you will be staying here for a while longer, I have a spear bedroom upstairs for you, and take Haytham to his room, it has a young eagle symbol carved onto it, you will see it when you get there.” Connor nodded and carefully puts one arm around Haytham’s shoulder, helping him up. Every step Haytham takes on those marble staircase just reminds him of his childhood, with both parents and his sister, of the countless times he had walked up and down the stairs. They soon reached Haytham’s room, which is right beside Jenny’s, Connor walks into the threshold, and gently lays Haytham down on the bed, and sits down beside him. 

The family doctor comes in with medicine, which they both knows are only there to elevate the symptoms, the doctor puts the medicine on the nightstand and explained the amount of medication should be distributed and the times it should be distributed, then she left. Connor looks down at his father, at the frail man who once was the Grandmaster of the Colonial Rite, the man who is in pain as he clutches his chest, gasping for air; sighing, Connor extends a hand and gently massages his father’s chest, trying to ease the pain. It feels strange to be touching his father, let along touching him in a way that does not indicate bloodshed or violence, but neither of them are complaining. 

As the pain subsides, Haytham slowly sits up, he brushes away a few unruly strands from his face, and turned to Connor, ” thank you, son, ” he said with a faint smile. Something about that word stirred up something in him, maybe it's the fragile tone of his father’s voice, maybe he realized that it will be the last time he will ever call him ”son, ” Connor swallows hard and looks out of the polished window. 

Haytham united the red ribbons in his hair, and set it down on the nightstand, letting his long, gray strands fall freely down his neck, he rarely does this around other people, but he figured Connor wouldn't mind it, walking into the bathroom, he removed his clothes and stares at himself in the mirror, his body is riddled with scars, injuries he received from battles, and he remembers the stories behind every one of them, sometimes when he closes his eyes, he dreamt of those battles. Sighing, he walks over to the bathtub, fills it with hot water, and begins to wash. 

When Haytham finally slept, it was around 5 o'clock in the evening, he opted to rest early since he has no appetite. Before he went to bed, he noticed that his journal was missing, Connor must have taken it with him to his bed-chamber earlier. Smiling, Haytham blows off the candles and gives in to exhaustion.


	2. Chapter 2

Soundless Voice 

Chapter 2  
London, December 7th, 1784

Haytham woke up to Connor sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him, his expression is unreadable. ” Good morning, father, did you have a good night rest?” Connor smiled, he dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black pants. ” As restful as a dying man can be, my son, ” Haytham chuckled darkly and sits up, noticing Connor’s gaze on him and turned to his son, ” what is it, son? You seem to have a lot of questions for me, ” Haytham asked, amusement in his tone. Connor opened his mouth to speak, he has so many things to say, he wants to tell his father that he misjudged him after reading his journal, he wants to tell him that he is sorry, maybe even tell him that he loves him, but he settled on one thing instead, there will be time today to tell him the rest. ” Never seen you with your hair down, father, ” he commented, noticing how effortlessly the silver strands fall on his father’s shoulders.” I figured that you won't mind, ” Haytham said, casting a sideways glance at his son, who is now smiling, though sadly. 

After they went downstairs and into the kitchen, Jennifer is already sitting at the table eating breakfast and reading the daily newspaper. She looks up from the paper she is reading and greeted good morning to Hyatham and Connor, ” hope you won't mind British breakfast, Connor, ” she said, not looking up from her paper. Connor set down, picks up a toast, and bites into it. Haytham just helped himself with Early Gray and a bit of toast. ” That theatre is going through a renovation, you remembered that theatre right, Haytham?” Jennifer asks, seeping her Breakfast tea. Haytham shrugged, ” barely, ” he answered, turning around and walks over to the window and stares at the scenery outside, the snow has slowly begun to accumulate on the ground, ” people is probably doing Christmas shopping right now , ” Haytham mused, he hasn't had a proper Christmas celebration with his family since that fateful day. 

Walks over to the counter and sethis cup down into the sink, Haytham said, ” I am planning to take a stroll in the garden, ” Jennifer nodded, ” some fresh air will do you good, ” she said as she stands up from her chair and walks out of the kitchen. ” I am coming too, ” Connor stands up as well, his eyes on his father, he looks paler each day. ” There are things that I want to tell you, ” he scratched the back of his head, blushing a bit. Haytham smiled at his son, ” alright, come then, let's be off.” Haytham patted his son’s shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen, Connor followed him. 

The garden is located in front of the manor, it was large but well maintained. Haytham remembered having sword fighting lessons in here, sometimes when the weather is good, his father will take the weapon training outside, and Haytham always loved that. The sound of boots contacting the fresh, crunchy snow helped Haytham relax, his eyes now have life in them. Breathing in the fresh and cold winter air cleared Haytham’s mind, and he looked back on his son, who is in awe of the grandiose of the garden. ” It is a beautiful garden, father, I’m sure it's even more so in spring and summer, ” he admits. ” It is, my mother and Jenny, they take good of it, and although I am not much of a flower person, I do enjoy strolling in it, to take a break from my studies.” Haytham’s mind lingered on the memories of his younger self, walking around the garden on a sunny afternoon, happily, without a care in the world. 

” Father, I have something to tell you, ” Connor’s serious tone pulled Haytham back to reality, and he blinked, ” apologies, son, I just had a flashback, what is it that you want to tell me?” Connor took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and said, ” I... Read your journal last night, forgive me for taking your belongings without asking first, but I just want to tell you, that I misjudged you, I’m sorry. ” Haytham stopped in his tracks, turned, and looked at his son in the eyes, dumbfounded. He never would have imagined that his own son will apologize to him, given his stubborn nature; but then again, stubbornness is a trait shared by the Kenway family members, a Haytham wasn't surprised. Yet, here he is, standing in the middle of the garden, his son apologizing to him sincerely, something he never had never done up until this point; Haytham thinks that he is going to burst into tears. ” Thank you, son, ” he reaches out and patted his son in his cheeks, and offered him a sad yet sincere smile. 

They strolled for a bit and went back into the manor, Haythamn opted to skip teatime and went back into his bed-chamber. Connor reminded him to take his medication and walk over to the living room. He gazed upon the painting again, and his mind drifts back to what he read about in his father’s journal. ” Will he be different if he were raised properly? ” Connor asked himself, he can't help but imagine his father as an Assassin. ” Grandfather, ” Connor whispered, looking at Edward, ” I’ve never met you, but I’m sure that you would have been a good grandfather, ” Connor whispered, smiling. ” Beautiful painting, isn't it?” Connor was startled by Jennifer’s voice, he turned around to see Jennifer standing next to him, wearing a simple, yet elegant tea dress. ” An artist painted this on Haytham’s birthday, he was happy back then.” Jennifer shrugged and offered Connor to join her for tea, Connor followed her. 

” Do you hate Haytham?” Jennifer asked, nibbling on a sandwich, Connor looked away, ” if you have asked me this question years ago, I would have answered yes, but now, I realized that my hatred towards him stems from my lack of understanding of him.” Connor sighed, looking down at his own reflection in the tea, ” I thought I know him, but in the end I was wrong.” Jennifer nodded, ” he is an enigma, ” she admits, ” always keeping to himself.” Connor nodded in agreement. ” Until I read his journal, I never realized that he too has lost a parent, a parent he was unable to save.” Connor chews on his tuna sandwich, thoughtfully. ” I suppose it's during a time like this, that I was able to see him not as my enemy, but simply as my father. ” Connor mused, blinking away tears that threatened to spill out of his sockets. ” He will always be my brother, too.” Jennifer reassured him. 

After the tea, Connor went upstairs to his father’s room, he knocked on the wooden door three times before hearing a ” come in, ” from his father and he opens the door, he was greeted by the sight of Hyatham sitting up on the bed, reading a book. ” I thought you were sleeping, ” Connor said as he steps into the threshold and sits at the edge of the bed. ” I have time to reflect on things when I am alone, ” Haytham said, putting the book back on the nightstand. ” Come, chat with me for a while, will you?” Haytham said, petting the empty spot on his bed, Connor wordlessly agreed. 

Climbing up onto the bed, Connor feels strange yet comforting at being so close to his father, they never had a chance to properly know each other, the fact that they were on opposite sides on this long-standing conflict only made things more difficult. However, now that Haytham is suffering from a terminal illness, his edges became softer and, he truly wants to mend their relationship. ” Do you have any regrets, Connor?” Haytham asked after some silence, ” what?” Connor was surprised at the sudden question, he blinks at his father, confused. ” No one goes through life without regrets, son, regardless of how people wish to get rid of them.” Haytham runs a calloused hand through his son’s thick, dark hair; Connor flinched a bit, but didn't complain. ” I sure have plenty of them, I regret no being able to protect my father, I regret about leaving your mother, and subsequently, not being present in your life; I regret that we were enemies, I regret not being a good father to you.” Haytham turns away from his son, his body shakes slightly from sobbing. Connor was taken aback, he had never seen his father cry, seeing the once-proud Templar Grandmaster breaking down in front of him came as a shock. Awkwardly extending a hand, he stroked his father’s back, trying to calm him. 

Calming himself down, Haytham turned back ad lays down, looking at his son and said, ” sing that song for me, that song which you hummed when we were on the carriage on the way here, sing that song for me again.” It came out more as request than an order, and honestly, Connor doesn’t mind giving in to his father’s request right now. He begins to sing, and even though Haytham doesn't understand the language used, the melody itself is enough to lull him to sleep, and he finds his eyelids drooping. By the time the last note was sung, Haytham is already in deep sleep, ” I have same regrets as you, father, ” Connor whispered, smiling, ” we are more alike than I care to admit.” Connor lays down beside him, soon, he was fast asleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Father and son bonding for the win!! I really wanted Connor to read his father’s journal when Haytham was still alive, and to tell him the things he wanted to tell him when he still can. And yes, I want an excuse to write Haytham with hair down so I put it in twice. If you haven't already guessed, the title and the inspiration for the fic comes from that Vocaloid song of the same name. Enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3   
London, December 8th, 1783 

Haytham stares at the scene before him, he was in a middle of nowhere, there are few people around him, all familiar faces, his father, his son, and Reginald Birch. He realized that he is in a kneeling position and pushed himself up, he is still in his Templar outfit, he realized, and he can already see the expression of disbelief on his father’s face. 

” Please, father, I can explain, ” he pleaded, voice strained from emotion. He knows that his father will never forgive him now, a son born into an Assassin family ended up becoming the Templar Grandmaster is enough for his father to be ashamed of him. Taking a shaky breath, Haytham looks at father in the eyes, ” after you died, father, I was taken in by Reginald Birch, ” he looks over to his Reginald and back at his son, they both nodded knowingly. Then he continued, ” I was indoctrinated into the Templar Order, I tried before, many times, to incorporate these two ideas, but in the end, I chose the opposite side. I thought... I thought I could bring the changes I was hoping for, but, I ended up losing people I care about and making an enemy with my son.” Haytham breaths out, bracing himself for the berating that is sure to come from his father, ” forgive me, ” he said quietly.

” I should have been there for you more when you were growing up, I’m sorry, Haytham.” Edward said after a long pause, mostly to take in all the information he just received. Haytham is shocked when he heard those words from his father, emotions are swirling inside his chest, and he falls to his knees begins to cry. Sobs wracked through his entire body as if he finally let out all the pain, regret and suffering through his tears. Connor kneeled down beside his father and hugs him, trying to provide comfort, the only words he is able to make out are ” I’m sorry... ” 

” Haytham...” Edward isn’t sure how to respond, he walks over to them and knelt down, ” come on, Haytham, stand up, ” he reaches out and helped his son back to a standing position. Haytham let out a shaky breath, his eyes are red and puffy. ” Listen, son, ” he takes both of Haytham’s hands in his, and he met his son’s gaze, confusion and pain still in Haytham’s eyes. He sighed, and continued, ” I... I never know what you’ve been through, and I know it's too late now to stir you down the path that was originally planned for you. However, if you think the path you’ve chosen is right, then I won't stop you.” He smiled feebly. 

Haytham’s squeezed his shut, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, his hands slipped out of his father's and dropped them onto his sides, his slender shoulders slumped. After a minute, he opened his eyes and looked at his father again, ” thank you, father, ” he smiled, and Edward smiled back, warmly. ” Farewell, children, ” he said, patting both Haytham and Connor on their shoulders and disappeared into the light. ” Goodbye, father, I will see you soon, ” Haytham whispered as his father vanished. 

Haytham woke up to a peaceful snowy scene outside his window, Connor had woken before him and added some dry branches into the fireplace, ” oh, you are awake, father, ” Connor smiled, ” a blizzard just hit here, so I made the fire stronger.” Haytham climbed out off bed and walked towards the windows, outside, the back garden was blanked with white, pristine snow, Haytham looked at the scene before him, his fingers on the cold window, the comfortable silence fell upon the bed-chamber. ” I remember snow, ” he said after a while, ” when I was ten years old, after that tragedy, I set in this mansion, it was snowing outside.” Haytham winced, from both the memory and the pain that is starting to rise in his chest, Connor reaches out and puts his hand on his father’s chest; the warmth made Haytham relax a bit. ” I want dinner, ” Connor said, after a short silence, and let his hand gal back to his side, he signalled his father to follow him. ” But, I’m not really hungry, ” Haytham protested weakly, his conscious is telling him to get some food in his system, so he doesn't look like a skeleton. ” Come on, father, you look famished, ” Haytham sighed and follows him, a little food won't hurt, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler chapter really, I really enjoyed writing that dream sequence, Haytham filling in Edward all the things he missed after that day.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

London, December 9th, 1783 

Haytham is in the games room, sipping on Early Gra tea. Connor took his time exploring the mansion, he was lost several times and had to ask Jenny for help, but eventually, he was able to maneuver himself through this gigantic manor. Every room he enters conjured up the memories of the time long gone; when his father was still a child, a child who was happy. After wondering the house for a while, Connor realized that he hasn't seen his father anywhere, he had retreated to a room after breakfast, but he didn't specify which. Connor leans against the wall and begins to recall all the rooms he was just in, he had familiarized himself with the locations such as the kitchen, his father’s room ( which he began to spend more time in), the garden and the servant’s hall. But apparently, he hadn't explored every nook and cranny of this house, the sun peeks through the window, soft and warm, a comforting silence fills the hallway. Suddenly, Connor remembered that his father mentioned the games room, where he had weapon practice when he was a child, with this information in mind, he straightens up and left the hallway. 

Finding the games room was pretty easy, the room is not big, but well furnished, with a small bookshelf beside the door candle set on the table beside his father, a set of intricately decorated teapot and cups set on a desk beside his father, Haytham looks up from the book he is currently reading and greets his son, ” so you found it, son, ” he smiled, motioning Connor to join him on the chair beside him, which he did. ” I could imagine you getting lost in the myriad of hallways, ” he chuckled, pouring some tea into the cup for his son, Connor wrinkled his nose at the tea but accepted. 

Turning his head, Connor noticed a heart shaped music box standing beside the teapot, it's small but has a nice weight to it, the exterior has intricate patterns carved into it, he slowly opened it up to reveal a single ballerina statue on a small metal platform the middle, with her arms held high, and standing on one leg; around her is a blank of soft red velvet. Following his son’s gaze, Haytham reaches out and twisted the wind up the handle, and the ballerina begins to spin, and soft music comes out of the box. ” Nice piece of work, isn’t it?” Haytham leaned in and popped his arm onto the desk, resting his chin on his palm.” My mother gave it to me as a birthday present when I was seven years old.” The fondness of this memory lights up his sickly pale face. 

” You look dead, father, ” Connor commented, looking up from the music box and at his father, ” soon I will be, ” Haytham said darkly, and turned the music off. Standing up, ” this is the punishment for what I have done.” He said, not looking at his son. Connor can only sigh, he knows that his father will die, either by his own hands or by some illnesses. ” Walk with me, son, ” Haytham turned around, extending a hand towards Connor, ” to the cemetery.” Connor looks up, ” cemetery?” he asked, ” yes, the Kenway family cemetery.” Haytham walks out of the room after that statement and Connor wordlessly followed him. 

The cemetery is located not too far from the manor, it's quiet but well maintained. Haytham walks over to two gravestones standing next to each other, and crouched down, brushing away the snow that covered them, revealing two names: Edward Kenway, and Tessa Kenway ( nee Stephenson Oakley). ” Grandfather and Grandmother...” Connor said quietly, Haytham nodded. ” Father, mother, ” he said, lips quivering, ” I am about to go and see you soon, I might not be forgiven for my actions and I understand, but I really want to see you. I have lots of things to say to you.” He bites his lower lip to prevent the sob from escaping. ” I miss you, terribly. If this war had ended a long time ago, you wouldn't have been taken away from me, although, now, it is merely wishful thinking on my part.” Haytham lowered his head, sighing heavily. 

Connor kneeled down and pulled his father into a loving embrace. Haytham buried his face into the fabric of his son’s coat, finally let the sob out. They stayed like this for a while, and pulled apart, Connor helped his father back into a standing position and they left the cemetery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I used to have a vintage music box when I was a kid.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5   
London, December 10th, 1783 

Haytham is bedridden for the majority of the morning, his fever flared up again, and Connor had to force him to take his medication. Haytham’s lips are chapped, his face flashes red, and he is terribly gaunt. Putting a damp towel on his father's forehead, Connor set down on the bed beside his father, watching him relax as the medicine takes effect. Haytham doesn't have much time left, and Connor bites his lower lip, sometimes he wondered if it's better for his father to kill him earlier, so he won't have to see him in such a sorrow state; but then again, he will lose the chance to properly get to know his father. ” Son?” Haytham asked, ” what, father?” Connor moved closer to his father, a curious look on his face. ” I never would have anticipated this truce to work out the way it did, ” his voice is like sandpaper, and Connor feels like someone kicked him in the stomach. ” Considering our position, ” suddenly, a thought overcame Haytham, ” if I were to die tomorrow, please bury me in that cemetery.” Connor nodded. Suddenly, he reaches forward and pulled his father into an embrace, which Haytham returned. 

That afternoon, after Haytham felt better, Connor suggested that they make a snowman in the garden. ” I used to do this with my mother and friends, but I’ve done it with you.” Haytham’s expression is warm, ” fine, let's do that, ” he said and climbed out of bed. The snow has stopped and the garden is coated in white, carefully not to stumble, Connor tightened his winter coat and scarf around him and quickly gathered a pretty large snowball. ” Father, your turn!!” He called out, laughing. Haytham smiled and also gathered a smaller snowball, to put on top of the bigger one. ” Wait, I forgot the carrot, ” realizing something, Connor turned and run back to the house, Haytham watched as he runs off, a sense of finality overcame him and tears came streaming down his face. ” Farewell, son, ” he said quietly as he gathered some pebbles and short beaches to put on the snowman. 

” Father, I’m back, ” Connor runs back to the garden, carrot in hand, trying to catch his breath. Brushing away the sweat and snowflakes from his face, Connor put the carrot onto the snowman’s face. Stepping back to observe their creation, Connor smiled satisfied, ” I think it looks good, ” he remarked, Haytham nodded in his direction, ” it does, son, now, would you like to go back inside for some hot chocolate?” Haytham is shivering in the cold and stared at his son for some affirmation. ” Fine, but can I make one snow angel before I go in?” Connor looked at his father with pleading eyes, Haytham sighed, ” fine, but come inside as soon as you are done, alright?” Connor nodded and laid down on the blanket of snow, swishing his arms and legs up and down, laughing. Haytham watches as his son is enjoying himself in the snow, thinking back to his childhood, when his father watched him play in the snow. Oh, how he wishes this simple, joyous moment will last forever. 

Fully content with the snowy scenery, Connor stood up, dusting away the snow on his winter coat and went to join his father. ” Do you want cinnamon to go with your hot chocolate? Or marshmallows?” Haytham smiled as they walked back to the mansion, ” how about both?” Connor asked, shedding his coat and puts onto the coat rack, ” greedy child aren't you?” Haytham winked at his son, his playful tone indicated that he isn't serious, ” fine, ” he said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end, I just want to write a pure and joyful scene with this two.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
London, December 11, 178

Haytham found a note left on his nightstand, he needn’t read the signature to identify his son’s handwriting, bolder and admittedly less elegant than his own. The note simply reads: father, before you go, I just want you to know that I have forgiven you, although not entirely, but I came to understand you and see things from your view. However, I still believe that I can help bring the change we are hoping for, even though you won't survive long to see it. Also, you have been a good father, despite what amity we had before this, you are my father, and that will never change. Father, after you crossed over there, can you say hello to grandfather and grandmother for me? 

Your son

Ratonhnhaké:ton ( Connor Kenway) 

Carefully folding the note and puts it into his pocket, Haytham begins making his way downstairs to his study, along the way, he saw Connor and Jenny sitting in the living room, their eyes met and Connor swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears, Jenny’s expression is unreadable, but she nodded at him. Haytham smiled reassuringly and disappeared into the study. Sitting down at his table, he took a quil some parchment paper and begins to write.

To Connor, my son, 

Now that I have reached the end of my life, I would like to leave my final words with you. When I first found out that I have contracted this disease, my first instinct was to leave New York as quietly as possible, no one will know about my disease. 

However, I was surprised that you were willing to go with me, you must have overheard a conversation between my doctor and I, and after that, insisted to travel with me. To be completely honest, even with the truce being established between us, I know you couldn't say with absolute certainty that you trusted me. Still though, you came with me on our way back home to London. It feels strange, to have someone take care of me after so many years, but it is good, to be home with my family members, even though all I have left are you and Jenny. 

I feel at ease. I can finally relax, away from all the lies and betrayals that had plagued the majority of my life. I am with my son now. Sorry if I took so long to start mending our relationship, I was too wrapped up in the Order to really get to know you, I suppose you think the same about me. Now that I am away from it, I can be myself again, not as the Grandmaster, just as Haytham Kenway, myself. 

I wasn’t a good person, far from it, my hands aren't bloodless, and the LORD most definitely won't be writing down my name. But, I am glad that you were able to forgive me, and acknowledged the fact that, I tried my best at being a good father. Thank you, son. 

If it just so happened that you missed me and wanted to sob into your pillow, ( which I am certain that you will), you have my journal and this letter, my words will always be with you. 

Alright, enough of the sentiment, I need to get going, my parents are waiting for me on the other side, I am sure to have lots of explanations to do. But before I take my leave, just remember, I love you, son. I will tell my parents everything about you. 

Farewell. 

Your father,

Haytham Kenway. 

With the last words written, Haytham stood up from his desk and walked out of the mansion and into the garden, the snow has stopped, and he walked over to that snowman he and his son had build. He looked behind his home one more time before turning around, his knees buckled and he fell over and his eyes slide shut, he never woke up again. 

” Father?” Connor stops at the same spot, trying to catch his breath, he had run as fast as his legs allow after reading his father’s letter, and he knows that it will be too late. Walking over to the corpse of his father, carefully turning him around. He is quickly losing body temperature and it makes him cold to the touch. ” I... I’ve read that letter, father, ” said Connor, tears are sliding down his cheeks, and they froze in the chilly wind. ” I should have told you earlier, but I guess you already know about it anyway, ” he gently lifts Haytham’s head off the ground and onto his knees, fingers lightly tracing his father’s gaunt face. ” I love you too, father, ” he sobbed, which eventually turned into a full-on bawling, his tears fell onto Haytham’s face, which in turn were frozen into tiny ice crystals, decorating the visage of the slumbering man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haytham and Connor poured their hearts over the letters and bid each other goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
London, December 12, 1783 

Haytham’s funeral was a simple one, it was held in the Kenway family cemetery, attended by a few people, Connor, Jennifer, and the remaining members of the Colonial Rite. Connor adjusted his silk collar, he's still not used to the fancy, formal outfits worn by those aristocrats. Running a hand through his finely groomed hair, he gazed down at the casket. He and Jenny were able to look at Haytham one last time before the casket closed, shutting him away from the world of the living. 

Clearing his throat, the priest signals the start of the ceremony. Connor listened to him blurring out whatever knowledge he obtained of Haytham and sighed, his father really is the best at secrecy, he guessed that it is the Templar's way. After that, Connor, Jenny and the remaining Colonial Templars went onto the podium to honour their family and boss, everyone is crying except Connor, who feels calm. As the speeches are wrapped up, comes the time for burial, the fancy casket was lowered into the ground, Connor watches and whispered ” Goodbye, father.” Jenny silently pats her cousin’s shoulder. 

” What are you planning to do after this?” Jennifer asks as they leave the cemetery, the streets are bustling with laughter, children are throwing snowballs at each other, and adults watch them with hot chocolate in hand. Seemingly not noticing the sorrow that had just unfolded an hour ago. Connor smiled at the children, ” I want to go back home, to my people.” He answered, ” I don't belong here.” In the sky, the sun is peeking in through the clouds, warm enough for the people underneath it. Jenny nodded, ” I think I will leave for Paris, ” she said, ” to take some time off, away from this city for a while.” Two young children walk up to them, holding two cups of hot chocolate, Jenny and Connor happily accepted. Across the street, the church is busy preparing for the holiday Mass, a sense of newness surrounds the city. The pair turned and walk to the side of the street, waiting for their carriage. As Connor watches on the scenery before him, he thought to himself: 

It is time for new blood too.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic to mark my ventures into the Assassin’s Creed fandom, hope you like it. I really like Haytham and Connor’s relationship in AC III, although they make me sad. The Kenway family deserves better.


End file.
